give me your stars to hold
by faitaccompli23
Summary: Auslly. "Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky." Austin gets his big break a little later in life, and gets swept up in the fame. Now, he's facing the very real possibility of Ally walking away: from their partnership, from their friendship, from the possibility of something more. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Years of hiatus, and a Disney Channel show brings me back. Oy. Probably will be a three-parter.

* * *

Even after all this time,

the Sun never says to the Earth,

_"you owe me."_

Look what happens with a love like that.

It lights the whole sky.

_-_**Hafiz**

"What are you doing?"

Ally looks up, startled, to see Austin standing in the doorway of her apartment. It's been weeks since she's last seen him, and she can't remember the last time they've really talked. He's had a key to her apartment since her first year of college, when they were both at UCLA and he practically lived on her couch; days when they got by on dreams and boxed mac-and-cheese, the occasional gig and late-night videochats with Trish and Dez. Then, their junior year, the right producer was at a coffeehouse performance he did, and Austin's career exploded. He's been touring and hobnobbing and networking, a three-year streak as the darling of the LA music scene, and Ally's so proud of what he's accomplished: but she can't remember the last time they were just _AustinandAlly _without _themanagerandthestudioandtherecordcompanyandAustin Moonthecelebrity. _

Trish is at Columbia Law and Dez is producing his first movie and they've been dating for three years (who saw that coming?), and Ally's been writing songs and finishing her Master's degree in composition. Team Austin's spread across the country, and sometimes she misses the simplicity of Sonic Boom and the practice room. She and Trish talk every other day, and she's writing the score for Dez's new film, but she doesn't understand where she fits in the context of Austin's life anymore. And that, more than anything, terrifies her.

* * *

A year after that first big break, Austin ditches a songwriting session. One becomes two, and then five, six, all of them: for premiere parties and dates and publicity stunts. For awhile, Ally tries to grow in the direction of Austin's career: the high heels and saccharine compliments, late nights at Hollywood parties, petty gossip and cocktail deceptions. But it gets old fast, the lying and misery and facades, and she brings back the cloud watching and pickles and bright prints. She hopes for months that it's just a phase in Austin's life; that any day, he'll will come walking through her door with his sunshine smile and pickles, and it'll be like nothing's changed. Then the missed sessions turns to dropped calls and retroactive excuses, to radio silence and a glacial drift: two years after he catches that big break, Ally finds herself reading magazines to catch up on his life, and her heart stutters to a stop. She calls Trish in tears. Her best friend, voice crackling over the phone, is sympathetically blunt.

"He's not your Austin anymore, Ally. And you can't drive yourself crazy trying to fit yourself into his life when he's already left yours. It might be time to let him go."

And then comes the job offer. There's a record company in Seattle that she's done some freelance work for, and they're looking for a new head songwriter. They do a lot of work with New York, so she'd be able to visit Trish and Dez more regularly. Plus, LA's been stifling lately, and everywhere she looks she sees Austin: on billboards, in commercials, on buses and posters. Everywhere but in person. But still, something holds her back. She agonizes over the job for weeks; talks to her dad ("Hon, I'll be happy as long as you're happy."), her mom ("Ally, you can't let Austin define your life. Let yourself grow without him."), Trish ("NEW YORK. DID YOU SAY NEW YORK."), and Dez ("Follow the music, Ally. Follow your heart. And follow the ducks.") Dez's advice (bar the latter half) hits her the hardest. She calls Austin, too, to get his opinion, but instead she gets his voicemail. she leaves a message and waits on tenterhooks for a reply, but she doesn't get one. Two weeks later, he forgets to call on her birthday.

Ally takes the job.

* * *

She's jolted back when Austin speaks again, and she realizes he's standing in front of her, lifting books out of an open box.

"Are you... Are you packing? Ally, what's going on?"

The room is covered in boxes of sheet music and clothes, and her piano is in the process of being padded for storage.

"I... yeah. I got a job offer with a studio in Seattle. I'm leaving in a week."

She winces as Austin drops _Pride and Prejudice_. The thump of the book hitting the floor echoes around the apartment, cutting through a silence rife with tension.

Ally takes a moment to ready herself for the confrontation at hand.

"Austin, that was a second edition. You should know. You got it for me last Christmas. Probably worth more than this apartment." Her tone is lightly conversational, but her hands tremble as she picks it up, smoothing a palm over the cover.

Austin's jaw tightens and he whooshes out a breath. "What the _hell, _Ally. I thought we were friends. Best friends. When were you going to tell me you were moving? Were you even going to tell me? What kind of friendship is that?"

Ally bristles as she stands, brushing dust off her jeans. "When should I have told you? When you picked up one of my hundred calls? During a songwriting session? After one of your sixty zillion Hollywood parties? Between Courtney and Campbell and Olivia and Shannon? Let's be honest. You left this friendship first. Why are you even here?"

"I was in France for the second leg of the tour on your birthday. I brought you your present. I thought-I thought we could talk. Like old times."

Ally blinks back tears. "Too little, too late Austin. I'm leaving on Monday. I can't do this anymore."

Austin's words are angry and pleading. "What happened to always being there when I needed you?"

Ally's voice is tired as she replies. "I'll always be here if you need me. But I won't devalue myself by staying where you don't want me."

Austin begins pacing the room. He runs a hand through his hair in a gesture that reminds Ally achingly of his younger self. She reflexively moves to fix his hair, stopping herself at the last moment.

Austin halts in front of her. "What about my album? Our songs?"

Ally brings herself back to focus, glancing briefly in Austin's direction before reaching towards her bag. "I'll leave my songbook for you; there should be enough for the first few tracks of your new album, and I know you've got other songwriters already lined up."

Austin guiltily reddens, stammering for a moment. "Ally, I never-I wasn't going to-It was the labe-H-How did you know?"

She sighs as she turns to him. "I'm your writing partner, Austin. Your manager remembers that, even if you don't. Hank told me you were thinking about moving in a new direction. Nothing personal." She laughs wryly. "That was two months ago. I kept waiting for you to bring it up. You never did."

Austin opens his mouth to protest, but the words catch in his throat as Ally slips her songbook into his hands. Startled, he stares at the book in his hands until she speaks again.

"I'm done, Austin. I didn't sign up for this. I can't watch you throw your life away in a blaze of parties and hookups and empty promises. I miss you. I miss you and I'm sitting in front of you right now, but you're already gone."

Ally stops to take a breath, a sob catching in her throat. Austin catches himself thinking that it's unfair, unfair of this girl to be so terribly beautiful when he has to watch her walk away.

Ally continues quietly. "I miss the way you'd look at me, 2 A.M. with the perfect lyrics. I miss your smile, your laugh, honest and real and true. I miss Friday pickles and Saturday pancakes and the way you'd come watch clouds with me, even when you thought it was ridiculous. I miss feeding the ducks, and our park bench, and I miss the way you say my name. But mostly, I miss being your best friend."

She walks towards the piano, and Austin follows close behind. He reaches out, pulling her back to meet his steady gaze, simultaneously bewildered and exasperated.

"Ally, where is this coming from? What are you even talking about? What happened? We're in this together; we've always been in this together. You write, I rock. Remember? Since the corn dog days."

Her eyes soften as she looks at this boy: heartbreakingly handsome, jaded, still and guarded, so different from the teenager she'd met five years ago. He's almost an adult, they both are, but somewhere underneath the clever quips and glib laughter is a boy all grown up without knowing how he got there.

He takes a tentative step towards her and brushes a thumb against her wrist, the touch as light as a feather, sending a frisson of heat to the tips of her fingers. She lets herself bask in his closeness for a moment, in the familiarity of his touch and the safety of his hold. Encouraged, he pulls her closer, and she bites back tears as she steels herself to back away.

"Let me go, Austin."

Austin's arms tighten around her waist as he lets out a frustrated breath. "Just tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do to fix this. Help me understand, Ally."

The defeat in her voice makes Austin loosen his hold. "Life happened. We grew up. I watched you become someone I didn't recognize, watched as you pulled away. I saw myself try to change for you, for this world of yours I wanted so badly to belong to." She swallows, brushing a tear from her cheek as she steps away. "Because, Austin Monica Moon, I am hopelessly, exhaustingly, terribly in love with you. And I can't remember a time when I wasn't."

A few long minutes pass as Ally waits: for what, she doesn't know. She does know that his expression is vaguely reminiscent of a deer in headlights, and it would be patently hilarious if it wasn't right now: this moment, in response to these words. She turns to neaten a stack of sheet music, casting her eyes down to avoid his.

"I'm sorry for dropping this on you. I know it's awkward and heavy. I know it's probably the last thing you want to hear right now. And you shouldn't... I don't know. You don't have to say anything. But if I'm being honest with myself, that's part of the reason I'm leaving. But mostly, I'm leaving for me. So I can finally figure out how to exist without you, because you've already left, and I can't cling to a memory, Austin. I can't wait for you to come back anymore. I can't watch you forget what we worked for. I can't watch you forget the music."

She slips her coat on and closes the lid of the piano. Austin notes absently that he's always thought that nobody should make Ally cry, not ever. There goes another promise he didn't even know he'd broken. Ally tucks a piece of paper into his hand and slides her bag over one shoulder.

"What can I do to make you stay?"

"Nothing, Austin. Not now." She turns towards the door. "Let yourself out, please? I have to go."

In desperation, Austin reaches for her: not sure what to do yet, not aware why, but certain in the knowledge that everything'll be simpler, easier, if he can just hold her close and keep her there for a little while longer. She turns as he curves an arm around her waist, and stumbles into his chest. Ally looks up at Austin, wide-eyed and momentarily unguarded, and he curses under his breath before his hands tangle in her hair and he kisses her, long and sweet and slow. She kisses him back for a few seconds. It's a kiss full of love and longing and loss and it is the sweetest kiss that Austin's ever had. Then she steps from the circle of his arms and Austin is left with aching clarity, an understanding of how much she loves him. How much she's given up for him. He stands, still and stunned, momentarily paralyzed with the realization that he is in love with Ally Dawson. In love with the girl turning away from him with tears and a smile: a smile of heartbreak, of weary acceptance, and a wealth of love.

"I love you, Austin Moon."

And she walks out the door.

Austin stares dumbly after her. It's not until he remembers the note in his hand that he regains mobility. He unfolds the paper with shaking hands.

_There's no way I could make it without you._

He crumples it in his palm.

"Fuck." he whispers.

Next up: Austin finally gets his head screwed on straight. But will he be able convince Ally that he loves her, or is it really too little, too late?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I think I'm rushing Austin's revelation about his feelings a little bit, so I apologize for that. But in my head, A & A have been in love with each other forever, and it's so much more fun to write smitten Austin than clueless Austin.

Although both are pretty fun.

Hope you like it!

* * *

"Oh, dream maker,

you heart breaker,

wherever you're going,

I'm going your way..."

**-Moon River**

Austin sits in Ally's box-filled apartment for four hours. He's still grappling with the kiss, with the conversation, with the sudden clarity that Ally is someone he can't lose. Not like this. He pages through her songbook and wonders when she stopped writing duets, or when she started using pen instead of pencil, or who's been playing guitar to her piano. At midnight, when she hasn't come back, he goes home, determined to come back to talk to her tomorrow.

* * *

But Ally does an incredibly accurate impression of a secret agent for the next few days. She dodges his calls, avoids the studio, and when he tries to stake out her apartment, she sics her 70 year-old neighbor on him. After four hours of mothballs and photo albums, Austin is covered in cat hair, knows way too much about Mrs. Cuthbert's grandchildren, and still hasn't talked to Ally.

So he goes back to his apartment, unplugs his computer, and sends his manager straight to voicemail. Then he sits on the couch with her songbook and the note, and talks himself in and out of being in love with Ally Dawson.

* * *

He stews in self-pity and guilt for three days until he finally breaks down and calls Dez for the first time in half a year. Austin spends ten minutes apologizing to the static-y silence on the other end, before he finally pulls out the big guns.

"I was a shitty friend, Dez. I know. And I don't know how I can make it up to you, but I'm going to try. But I need your help right now; not just as a best friend. As the love-whisperer."

He holds his breath. The silence stales, and just when he's given up, Dez's voice comes quietly through the speakers.

"You're an idiot. And you owe me tickets to every Zaliens premiere in the foreseeable future." He pauses. "Now tell me your problems, young grasshopper. And I shall bestow my wisdom."

Austin chokes out a laugh that sounds more like a sigh of relief."I really messed up, Dez. With Ally. She's moving to Seattle. And she's in love with me. I think she's been in love with me for awhile. and I..." He stumbles over his words as he remembers the look in Ally's eyes when she turned towards the door. "I kissed her. And then I let her walk away. Dez, I just let her walk out of my life, and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I took her for granted and now she's leaving and I don't know what to do to stop her, and..."

Dez's reply is pensive. "And you're in love with her too?"

Years of thin-lipped smiles and empty platitudes and Austin's forgotten how blunt honesty sounds. He doesn't remember his friend being this insightful, and a fresh wave of guilt washes over him as he remembers how far removed he's been. But then he pays attention to Dez's words and he remembers why he called.

"Yes. No. I don't know. I kissed her and for a few seconds, it was like the world turned upside-down. But what if it was just a fluke? What if kissing her was a mistake? I'm only twenty-four; I've been in dozens of relationships Dez, and I've never even been remotely close doing being in love. I don't know how it feels. What if it was just indigestion? Or maybe-maybe she was just wearing really good chapstick. Or it's a chemical imbalance." Austin keeps grasping at straws, rational reasons to explain the kiss because he's still sowing his wild oats, dates strings of beautiful women; he's been the youngest of _People's_ most eligible bachelors for two years now and he's famously unattached, so he can't, _can't _be in love with his best friend. Can't have been stupid enough to let her go. "Maybe I was just caught up in the moment, worried about her leaving. Or..."

Dez cuts him off. "Austin. Either pull your head out of your ass and realize that you're in love with her or deny it for another ten years; but if you can't make up your mind, let her move on. She deserves better than this, waiting for you to make up your mind about whether you want to be pop music's playboy for the rest of your life."

Austin exhales. "Wow, Dez. Harsh."

"You weren't there, Austin." Dez says sharply. "Every time you ignored a call or forgot a writing session or ditched Ally for another Hollywood party, you broke a piece of her. Trish and I watched as she tried to become someone she wasn't. We almost lost her for a little bit, and when she came back, she was a shadow of the Ally we used to know. You remember, right? The starry eyes and big dreams and the faith she had in you? In friendship? In people? So yeah, it is harsh, Austin. But you've spent three years chasing fame and fortune and now you suddenly decide that _maybe_ you love her? That's not fair. And you know it."

Austin's reply is barely audible. "I just don't..._god_, I don't know how to love her right. And she deserves someone who loves her right." His stomach turns at the thought of Ally with someone else, but he dismisses it as bad sushi. "Maybe I should just let her go."

Dez mutters for a moment; Austin catches something about "Trish" and "I'm so dead," but before he can ponder it for too long, Dez starts speaking again.

"As Ally's friend, I am pretty much all for you letting her go." Austin has never heard Dez sound this serious before, and it is this more than anything that pulls him to attention. "But as your friend, I'm going to try one more time. How do you really feel about Ally?"

Austin thinks about the crumpled paper sitting on his nightstand.

_There's no way I could make it without you._

He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "I see her and the entire world tilts. I've never met anyone who understands music she way she does, who can pick out a melody from a squeaky door, or a thunderstorm, or from thin air. Sometimes it scares me how much she trusts me. Singing with her makes the rest of the world fade away, and when she smiles at me, I feel like I can do anything. She makes me want to be a better person, and watching her laugh is better than playing the biggest stadium show in the world." Austin's voice softens as he glances over to her songbook, forgetting he's talking to Dez as he continues. "There were days when I'd sit through interviews and parties and publicity stunts and the only thing that would get me through was her lyrics. I love that she sees the best in everyone. I miss her optimism. And it kills me to realize that I'm losing her, because I don't know who I am without her, and it's my fault that she's leaving. My fault that she doesn't know that I-"

Dez chuckles over the line and Austin stops, startled by the reminder that he's not alone.

"Huh." Austin whooshes out. "I _am_ in love with her." He repeats it, as if testing out the words. "I'm in love with Ally." Then he whoops, jumping up from the piano bench. "I'm in love with Ally Dawson!"

Dez's response is amused. "Glad you've come to your senses."

Austin feels lighter than he has in years. "Dez, how did you know? How were you so sure?"

"Don't be a puddinghead." Dez sounds like himself again, ridiculous and unassumingly wise. "You've been in love with Ally since we were fourteen. It just took you a damn long time to realize it."

"So what do I do now?" Austin's smile drops as he looks at the boxes cast around the room. "She's leaving, and I don't even know how to find her."

"She's coming to New York in four days, on Friday. She's staying with Trish, but she leaves for Seattle on Sunday, so you have that long to figure something out." Dez's voice is lighthearted. "You two crazy kids'll work it out. The love whisperer has worked his magic."

"Thanks, man. I owe you big." A grin spreads across Austin's face. "I'll see you soon."

Dez yells into the phone just before Austin hangs up. "AND REMEMBER. FOLLOW YOUR HEART. AND THE DUCKS."

* * *

Austin shoots a hurried text to his manager, emails polite rejections to half a dozen songwriters, and takes the next flight out to Miami. Two hours after he gets off the plane, he finds himself in the familiar doorway of Sonic Boom.

The store is buzzing with activity, and Austin glances up at the practice room for a moment before bringing himself back to focus. He makes a beeline towards the register, where Penny Dawson is struggling to help a customer restring his guitar.

"Here, let me." Austin reaches for the guitar and strings it with practiced ease. The guitar's owner, a boy who looks roughly seventeen, gapes at him.

"You're Austin Moon."

Austin shrugs. "Yeah."

"Dude_. _That's _awesome." _

The teenager leaves the store with an autographed guitar and a mile-wide smile, waving at Austin the entire way out the door. Austin waves back, then turns to meet the cool gaze of Ally's mother.

"Hello Austin. Haven't seen you for awhile." Her voice is inscrutable.

Austin swallows. "Hi Mrs. Dawson."

Penny shoos away a few customers ogling Austin and flips the closed sign on the door. Then she turns to face Austin with an unreadable expression and crossed arms. "So. What can I do for you?"

"I'm in love with your daughter."

Penny raises her eyebrows. "Is that so?"

Austin blurts out the rest of his request in a nervous rush. "I know, it caught me off guard too, but I'm in love with her and I have been an enormous idiot and she's moving to Seattle, but you probably already knew that, because you're her mother, of course you knew that, but I didn't and now I do and then she told me she loved me and I kissed her but then she wouldn't talk to me and I wasn't sure if I really loved her and then I realized that I did. And now I'm going to lose her unless I can find her and tell her how I feel; but Ally deserves something monumental and special and perfect because she is. Special and perfect, I mean, not monumental because she is not a monument and she's not huge-she's actually really tiny, like the tiniest person I know, but that's not a bad thing, because she has a really big heart, and this is not going nearly as well as I thought it was going to go and I'm not even sure what I'm saying right now and I can't stop talking and I don't know why..."

He takes a huge gulp of air and continues. "And I came here to convince you that I'm trying to change and be a better person, the kind of person who deserves your daughter because I know I've royally screwed things up with Ally and I know you probably know how much of a jackass I've been-I didn't mean to say jackass in front of you-and now I've said it again, please forget that entire last sentence? And I was also wondering if I could go up to the practice room really quickly, because there are some songs that Ally and I never finished and there's one that I'd really like to finish for her-" Austin's clamps shut as Ally's mother raises a hand to stop his rambling.

Penny bites back a smile as she looks at this boy in front of her, jacket inside-out, messy hair, breathless and nervous, so different from the veneer and closed-off brooding she's seen in all the tabloid pictures. The look in his eyes makes her a little giddy for her daughter, and her heart softens for these kids she's watched grow up, grow apart, and now, grow together.

"Go on upstairs, Austin. Ally keeps all the old sheet music in the piano bench."

Penny hears a few thumps and a muffled curse as Austin runs up the stairs. She's just finished shooting an email to Trish when she looks up to see wide-eyed shoppers gathering outside the store, watching as Austin coming back down the stairs, papers trailing as he stuffs them into a guitar case slung over his shoulder. He's halfway to the door when Penny's voice stops him.

"Take care of our girl, Austin." Her voice is gentle, but firm, and Austin understands the warning in the blessing.

"Thank you!" Austin yells, already jogging away backwards. "I won't let you down, Mrs. Dawson!"

Penny smiles as she hears the ping of her email and turns to see Trish's reply.

_Hey Mrs. D,_

_Ally just landed. Has no clue. Whatever Austin is planning had better be good._

_Trish_

_P.S. Don't you just love love?_

Penny turns from the computer to see Austin sprinting through the crowd outside the store. "Oh, Ally, you are in for a crazy weekend."

* * *

Next up: Oh, Austin Moon. How are you going to win the girl? And the perpetual Austin & Ally question: will she stay, or will she go?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Apologies, as I had to split this last part into two sections because it was getting too long. There are parts I'm struggling with still, but we'll see how it pans out, I suppose? Your guess is probably as good as mine.

Hope you all like it!

* * *

"Because there is nothing more beautiful than

the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline,

no matter how many times it is sent away."

**- Sarah Kay****  
**

Ally knows something is up Friday afternoon, when Trish is surprisingly tight-lipped about plans for the next few days. They're two best friends in New York City. The weekend practically schedules itself. But she lets Trish have her secret, if only because she's not quite up for the nightlife scene anyways. It's wonderful to see Dez and Trish again, but the missing link in Team Austin is all the more noticeable when she remembers the events of this past week. She hasn't told Trish about her confrontation with Austin; not because she doesn't want to tell her, but because Ally doesn't know if she can admit to herself that it was real. Right now though, lying in her best friend's guest bedroom, staring at the ceiling, three thousand miles away from LA, she thinks telling Trish everything might be what she needs to move on.

There are times when she's convinced the kiss was a figment of her imagination, the product of paint fumes and stress. It'd be easier that way. But the details are too clear for it to be a daydream: calloused fingers tangled in her hair, a boy that tastes like maple syrup and her favorite song, and the way he looked standing in her front hall, watching her go. Letting her leave.

She sighs into her pillow. She's been holed up in her room since her flight this morning, and she's surprised Trish hasn't been more inquisitive. But the girl has mellowed since their high school years, and it's possible that her relationship with Dez has made her just a tad more patient. She hears a light knock on the bedroom door and rolls to a seated position.

"Come in!" Ally makes a half-hearted attempt at neatening her hair before giving up as Trish walks in with two enormous grocery bags. The dark-haired girl looks at her sympathetically.

"I brought frozen yogurt and a dartboard with Austin's face on it."

Ally laughs softly. "Just like old times, huh?"

Trish pops open a carton and slides the lid onto the nightstand. "Want to talk about it?" She says as she scoops an absurdly large spoonful of mint chocolate chip and hands it to Ally.

Ally's voice is quiet. "He kissed me."

Her best friend looks more thoughtful than shocked, but Ally just attributes it to Trish's uncanny perception when it comes to the people she loves.

She continues. "He found out I was leaving. I told him I'm in love with him. He kissed me. I walked away. He let me." Ally lets out a breath. She's not this girl. She's cried more in the past week than she has in years, but she won't let this boy define her anymore. "And he's tried to talk to me, but I know what he's going to say. A half-assed apology, "the kiss was a mistake," some more meaningless excuses as to why he's never around anymore. And then back to his celebrity life." Ally pauses, looking at her spoon pensively. "But I think I'm finally done, Trish. I can't be this-whatever I am to him anymore. I'm giving up."

Trish, midway through her own scoop, drops the entire carton on the floor.

Her voice is strange as she leans over to pick up the frozen yogurt. "Maybe you should give it a little time, Ally. Or at least hear him out?"

Ally looks at Trish, bewildered. "I thought you were the one who said to let him go?"

Trish sits up, avoiding her best friend's eyes. "You know me. I might've been a little hasty. I think maybe you should give him one more chance; his time might be different. You never know."

"Trish, he's three thousand miles away. I doubt I'll hear from him until I get to Seattle, if even then." Ally suppresses a pang of sadness at the thought that she might've spoken to Austin for the last time in a long time. Moving on. Slow and steady, she tells herself.

"I wouldn't be too sure."

Ally hears the mutter and whips around to stare at her best friend. "What?"

But Trish is already standing with the spilled carton, changing the subject. "I'm going to take this out. I'll be right back. We can pop in a movie?" She moves towards the door. Her voice is gentle as she turns back for a moment. "Just... keep an open mind, Ally."

She shuts the door quietly behind her, leaving Ally to plop back onto the bed and finish her spoonful of frozen yogurt. "Moving on." She says to herself, nodding emphatically at her reflection in the spoon. "Yup."

* * *

It's eleven. She and Trish have just finished the second movie in their Harry Potter marathon, and Ally's popping more popcorn on the stove when she hears a knock at the door.

Trish pops her head into the kitchen. "Can you get it? It's probably the pizza, and I'm in my pajamas."

"News flash: we're both in our pajamas. And did we even order pizza?" Ally says, switching the stove off.

Her best friend shrugs, and the knock sounds again.

"Just a second!" Ally shrugs on a sweatshirt and turns to Trish. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, your city has taken me hostage."

"I'll call Liam Neeson." Trish deadpans as she pushes Ally towards the hallway. "Go! I want pizza."

She stumbles into the hat stand she opens the door, and the entire thing comes tumbling down around her feet and into the hallway.

"Only Trish." She sighs as she untangles her ankles from a mess of animal-print haberdashery. She looks up to apologize to the poor pizza boy bearing witness to her stellar coordination.

"I am so sor-Austin?"

It's not pizza.

* * *

Austin's heart stills when the door opens. He hadn't expected the onslaught of pink leopard print top hats, but it's still Ally standing in the doorway, still her smile (fading) and her eyes (tired) and her clumsiness (so familiar it hurts). He thinks briefly that he's glad this was the moment he chose to knock on the door; because if he hadn't, he wouldn't be seeing her as she is in this second, right now, an old UCLA sweatshirt and a messy ponytail and wide eyes.

So he stares at her, she stares at the light fixture above his head, and the silence stretches on until Ally shifts impatiently.

"What do you want?"

Austin blurts out the first thing that pops into his head.

"Is that my sweatshirt?"

Ally tugs on it defensively. "Um. Yeah. You can have it back, if you wa..."

"No!" Austin says hurriedly. "Keep it. Looks better on you anyways."

She fidgets with the sleeve and looks down. "Why are you here, Austin?"

Austin's never heard her sound this defeated, and digs his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out to tug her into his arms. _Focus_, _Austin_. He's made so many mistakes with her; Ally doesn't trust him anymore, and he knows hasn't earned that trust back yet. But he's doing his damn best to become the kind of person she deserves, and he's going to prove it to her.

"I'm here to woo you."

Ally stills. Of all the things he could've said, she never expected this.

"You... what?"

"I'm here to woo you." Austin's grin is bright and familiar, and Ally's head spins.

"To... woo me?"

"Yup." Austin's smile widens as he starts backing away from the door. "That's all."

Ally blinks at the newly vacated space in front of her, stunned. A minute passes before she finally chokes out a word.

"What?"

Austin's almost to the elevators when he pauses. Still processing the past ten minutes, she doesn't realize he's running back until he's right in front of her.

"Also." He whispers, and suddenly he's dipped her into a kiss, chaste, languid, and entirely heart-stopping. Her head spins as he lets her go, and she shakes herself back into focus just as he steps away, dark eyes meeting hers for a moment. Then he's actually gone, and she's standing stock still in the hallway, fingers pressed to her lips, heart in her throat, chanting _movingonmovingonmovingon _under her breath.

Trish comes out to the doorway and catches the tail end of the mantra. There's laughter in her voice as she pulls Ally back into the apartment. "Oh, you are in so over your head."

* * *

Ally spends the entire night tossing and turning, coming up with a million different reasons: for Austin's appearance in New York, for Trish's uncharacteristic silence on the topic ("He should be the one to tell you."), and for the kiss. She talks herself in circles until she finally falls asleep, sometime in the early hours of the morning. She wakes up when the doorbell rings at 9 in the morning.

"Trish, I am not doing this again!" She swings her feet onto the floor. "Trish?"

There's no response. Padding to the front hall, Ally looks tentatively through the peephole. The hallway is empty, no Austin in sight, so she swings open the door and looks down. At her feet is a vase of sunlight-golden freesias and inky blue violets. There's a card tucked under the vase, and she unfolds it with trepidation.

In vintage typography, the store has listed the flowers and their meanings. "Violets-take a chance on me. Freesias-trust."

But the two lines after are in Austin's handwriting, and Ally's breath catches in nostalgia.

_**Just break down the walls, whoa**_  
_**Don't be afraid to let them fall.**_

She takes the flowers into the kitchen, puts on a pot of coffee, and takes a shower. Feeling a little more like herself, she calls Trish. She doesn't pick up, so Ally leaves a short message, takes her mug into the living room, and attempts to put the flowers out of mind. She's moving to Seattle in two days; there's nothing Austin can do anymore to make her stay. And that's that. _(But they really are beautiful.)_

Ten minutes after she sits down, 10 A.M. on the dot, the bell rings again. She checks the hallway. Upon finding it empty, she opens the door and lets out a surprised laugh. In addition to a vase of tulips and buttercups is the biggest jar of pickles she's ever seen. It comes up to her hip and so wide she can barely wrap her arms around it. Ally has no clue how she's going to get it into the apartment, so she sits down in the middle of the hallway to open the card. "White Tulips-Forgive me. Buttercups-Childishness." And again, Austin's left a note.

**_I love the things you do,_**  
**_It's how you do the things you love._**

She can't keep herself from smiling as she uses the pickle jar to pull herself to her feet.

"What am I going to do with you." She wonders out loud, not sure if she's talking about the boy or the jar.

Ally finally gets the pickles in the door, wedging them next to the death trap masquerading as a hat rack. She calls Trish again, and this time, she picks up.

"I'm assuming you got the first flower delivery?" Ally senses the grin in her friend's voice.

"Yup. And the second. Where did he find a jar of pickles this big?" It's not the question Ally really wants to ask, but she's not sure she's ready for the answer-and she's not sure Trish is the person to give it._ (what is he trying to say, what is he telling me, what does this mean, is this a love song?) _

"So. You think you're going to forgive him?" Trish, as usual, cuts straight to the point.

Ally sighs. "I'm not sure. I'm going to Seattle. End of story. I don't know what he's trying to do. Trying to save our friendship? Our partnership? Who are we to each other anymore? When I left, I thought that was closure. I thought that it was what he wanted too." She pauses, and her lips quirk into an unconscious smile as she looks over at the flowers. "Although this is one hell of an apology."

Trish laughs over the phone. "Oh, young, naive, oblivious best friend of mine."

Ally tilts her head questioningly, then realizes Trish can't see her. "What do you mean?"

"You're Ally to his Austin." She says simply. "And he's Austin to your Ally. Which automatically means this isn't just an apology."

Ally mulls this over for a minute, but before she can respond, Trish cuts her off.

"Als, I have to go." Her voice is knowing as she hands up. "And I think you have to get the door."

The line clicks off and Ally has just barely slipped the phone into her pocket when there's a knock on the door.

"Well that's new."

This time, even though it's a knock, she doesn't bother to check the hallway. In fact, if she's being perfectly honest with herself, a part of her is hoping that Austin'll be standing outside. Instead, it's a mustached delivery man with a nametag that says "Marv", holding a positively enormous bouquet of dark pink roses in full bloom.

"Delivery for one..." He squints at his clipboard. "Ally Gator?"

Ally finds herself in the familiar position of being caught between exasperation and affection for this ridiculous boy. "That's me."

"Got somethin' else for ya."

He hands her the bouquet and she turns to set it carefully on the pickle jar, taking a peek at the note as Marv searches through a delivery bag.

"Dark Pink Roses-gratitude, love. Snowdrops-hope, friendship in trouble. Sweet Pea-departure, transition."

**_It's like I'm balanced on the edge,_**  
**_It's like I'm hanging by a thread. _**

Ally finds herself itching to talk to Austin, if just to confront him about what message he's trying to send. She reaches for her phone just as Marv hands her an envelope.

"Here you go, Miss Gator. You have a nice day now." He nods at her and Ally suppresses a laugh at the serious expression on his face as he says her name.

"You too, Marv. You too."

She closes the door and rips open the envelope. It's empty, except for a few slips of torn paper that drift onto the floor when she turns it over. Confused, she checks the envelope again: for a message written on the envelope, or something taped to the inside. There's nothing.

"Stupid, cryptic, annoyingly charming boys." She grumbles under her breath as she picks up the scattered papers. Then her heart stops as she catches the logo of Austin's recording company. Her hands tremble as she pieces what she can together, but she doesn't need much to realize what Austin's sent her-what he's given up. His contract.

* * *

Next up: What else is Austin planning? What is he going to do without a contract? When's the happy ending coming?

(Actually though, when, because I am writing this on the fly, so I have no clue when these two are going to get their act together.)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Second part of split third part. so... fourth part?

Also. Disclaimer. 5 years away and I forgot that was a thing... but. I don't own the R5 song, or Austin and Ally!

LAST CHAPTER. practically wrote itself. Please let me know if y'all have any interest in an epilogue/sequel/etc.

Hope you like it!

* * *

"I am the pool of gold when sunset burns and dies

― you are my deepening skies;

give me your stars to hold"

**- Sara Teasdale**

Ally spends the next hour intermittently calling Austin and pacing, waiting for the knock she knows is coming. At noon, the doorbell rings and she launches herself from the kitchen with a speed and dexterity that she'd applaud herself for, if she weren't so preoccupied with finding Austin. She wrenches open the doorknob, but there's no sign of anyone in the hallway.

There's another vase though, of odd green leafy things, and a rectangular package. She stoops to read the note.

"Filbert: Reconciliation."

**_If you wanna fly, I will be your sky  
Anything you need that's what I'll be._**

Ally unwraps the package to find the newest cloud-watching book, and she breathes out a laugh. How fitting. Then she stands up, sets the flowers in the kitchen, sits on the couch, and calls Dez.

"Hello, Ally of Seattle." The greeting is so Dez that Ally can't help but smile.

"I'm not Ally of Seattle yet, Dez." She adjusts the phone against her shoulder. "Listen. I know you know where Austin is. And I know you're involved in this apology or wooing or whatever you want to call it, but I need you to tell me where I can find him."

"No can do, Allybug." Dez's replies promptly. "Love-whisperer-client confidentiality."

"Dez, there's no such thing as love-whisperer-client confidentiality. Is he even paying you?"

Dez's voice is dramatically offended. "I took sacred oaths, Ally! On the pants! Do you know how sacred pants are?"

"But he's being ridiculous." Ally says exasperatedly. "Did he tell you he gave up his contract?"

Dez grows serious. "Are you saying you think that's a bad thing?"

"I-it's ju-No. Honestly, I think it's amazing." She reaches for her mug of coffee, now cold, and takes a sip. "But I can't let him give up his life because of what I think. I mean, think about the fallout, Dez. He's at the prime of his career right now. Celebrity is fickle and fleeting. And he loves performing." She pauses, then repeats it softly. "He loves performing: the stage, the fans, the fame. And I can't let him give up something he loves, just because I don't fit into it."

There's a long silence from Dez's end of the call before he finally responds.

"Have you ever considered that he's found something he loves more?"

Her reply is interrupted by the doorbell.

"Dez, what is this?" She walks towards the door. "It's only been half an hour since the last delivery."

"You'll see." He says, cheerful again. "Gottogobye." Then he hangs up.

Ally stares at the phone for a moment before remembering the bell. She steps into the hallway, to be faced with Trish, carrying intensely bright pink flowers, and a single card.

"You know you live here, right?" Ally quips. "There's that thing called a key?"

Trish sticks her tongue out at Ally. "You know, my arms are so tired. I hope I don't drop these flowers...or this note...into the trash can...where it'll never be read."

Ally wrinkles her nose. "Okay, fine. You win. Just hand 'em over."

Trish walks into the kitchen and sets the vase down. "And I believe this is meant for you." She slides the card across the counter to Ally, who unfolds it with undisguised impatience.

"Dew Plant: serenade."

The next lines are in Austin's handwriting again, but she doesn't recognize the lyrics.

**_The sun don't shine, the sky ain't blue,_**

**_If I can't be with you._**

**P.S. Look on the back.**

In large, scrawling letters across the back of the card, Austin's written **FM 102.6.**

"TRISH. RADIO." Ally lunges for the stereo as Trish watches amusedly. It's already turned to FM 102.6, and Ally turns the volume up as a familiar voice comes on air.

* * *

"And thanks again for having me, Pete." Austin responds politely to the radio host, right before they go to commercial.

He's just finished answering half a dozen questions about the swerve his career has suddenly taken. The decision to drop his contract was spur of the moment, but he doesn't regret it. The second he signed off on the termination, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. And now he's free to move in a different direction with his career, his music, his life. It's equal parts terrifying and exhilarating; although, sitting here, minutes before he's supposed to sing, he feels a little like he's going to throw up.

Pete Emerson's been a radio DJ for years, but he's never seen anyone with Austin's background this nervous about a performance.

"A girl?" He waves his empty water bottle in the direction of Austin's sheet music as he gets up to recycle it.

"The girl." Austin's smile is more of a grimace, and his knee shakes nervously as he runs his fingers over his guitar.

Pete smiles at Austin knowingly. "I know the feeling." He pats Austin on the back before he returns to his seat. "Get ready, man."

The lead-in music plays, and then Pete turns to the microphone.

"And we're back on FM 102.6 the Jive, with popstar Austin Moon, who recently made a few decisions that have turned the LA music scene on its head. Now, he's here with an exclusive sneak peek at the first song on his new, independent album. Wanna give our listeners a little bit of background, Austin?"

Austin shifts towards the mic. He's spent two days writing and rewriting and stripping lyrics from old, unfinished songs he and Ally wrote together. And now this is it; the moment of truth.

"I love performing. I love the thrill of being on stage, or the feeling you get when you make a connection with your audience, with your fans." He pauses. "But mostly, I love the music. And I think I lost that for awhile." He glances towards his song, takes a breath and continues. "Someone very important to me helped me realize that. But I was a colossal idiot, and I didn't know how important she was until I let her go. So this song is for her. For her, for us, for second and third and last chances. Ally Dawson, I hope you're listening."

* * *

Austin says her name and Ally emits a muffled yelp. She and Trish have pulled up chairs next to the stereo, and she's practically vibrating with tension. Then Austin starts playing, and it's like everything melts away. She's forgotten what it's like to hear his music like this: stripped, acoustic, gutwrenchingly personal. And when his voice cracks on the last line, Ally knows she's already forgiven him.

* * *

Austin fidgets in front of the door to Trish's apartment. It's been four hours since he left the radio station, and he hasn't heard from Ally. The blogosphere is buzzing with praise for his new sound, and he's already heard from four separate record companies with lucrative offers. But the only person whose opinion he really needs to hear is sitting in that apartment. So currently, the door in front of him is looking more and more imposing. But then he reminds himself that this is Ally: first and foremost, his best friend. Honest and true and real. And she's worth the fight.

He reaches a hand up to the door, but it swings open just as he knocks, and he ends up tapping Ally on the forehead instead.

She blinks. "Hello to you too." She says wryly, closing the door behind her. "Trish has been watching you pace for twenty minutes. She sent me out here to put you out of your misery."

"Oh."

"So. I heard your song." Her expression is inscrutable as she looks at Austin. "It was good."

Austin meets her steady gaze. "And?"

Something flits through her eyes. "And I'm really proud of you, you know." She smiles at him, and it's the first real smile he's seen from her in months, and it breaks him.

"Ally." His voice is hoarse. "I am so, so sorry for what I've put you through for these past few months."

She holds up a hand. "I forgave you."

He stares at her. "What?"

"That song was amazing. But I think I forgave you the second I saw that contract."

Austin's shoulders ease. "Well I'll be damned."

"But that doesn't change anything." Ally says quietly.

Austin feels his heart sink again. "What do you mean?"

"Well for one, I'm still moving." She pauses. "And I'm still in love with you. And you... you're in _something _with me, but that's not enough, Austin. I know it's a lot to ask. A lot to expect. But Austin, love is transitive. It's give and take and push and pull and I can't be just another girl to you, because you're not just another boy to 're my best friend. And selfishly, I couldn't handle losing you when you inevitably decide that you decide I'm not who you want." She reaches for his hand, twines her fingers in his, and lifts herself up to kiss his cheek. "I'll miss you, Austin."

She's reaching for the door when his voice stops her in her tracks.

"I love you."

She turns.

"Austin."

"No, I do." His words are a desperate rush as he reaches for her. "I can't forget us, Ally. I can't forget the way you taste or the way you feel or the way we fit together. I close my eyes and the world is pickles and pancakes, cloudwatching and feeding the geese and duets together, even when we're ninety-two. It's the way you dance and the way you smile and the way singing with you makes me feel invincible." Ally's eyes are glossed with tears as he pulls her close, leaning his forehead against hers. "I breathe you in and everything else fades away. You are colors and sunshine and laughter and god, every time I look at you, it's like remembering the words to a song I didn't even know I knew." His voice trails. "And thinking about losing you is like burnt pancakes and broken harmonies and lost voices, all in one. Because Ally, you? Us? This is the song I want to sing for the rest of my life."

Austin stops to take a breath, and remembers something else. "And I have one more note for you." He reaches into his back pocket for a crumpled envelope and hands it to Ally.

She unfolds the well-worn note tucked inside, knowing what it is before she even sees the writing.

_There's no way I could make it without you._

But underneath, Austin's added two more lines.

**_Do it without you. _**

**_Be here without you._**

"What...?"

"Check the envelope again." Austin says gently.

Ally unfolds the two pieces of paper inside.

"These ar-These are Bruno Mars tickets." She says, looking up at Austin.

"Check the city." He points to the middle of the ticket.

"Seattle." She breathes. "Wha-Austin, what is this? Are you telling me to take someone else? I don't understand, after everything you just said, I was going to give us a chance because it was actually the most adorable thing I've ever heard and I really really love you and I don't want to take someone else to a Bruno Mars concert what if I don't make any friends in Seattle and I have to take a stranger, what about stranger danger, Austin? Or what if I have to take that one coworker that I really hate because no one else wants to go with me, or what if-"

He interrupts her rambling. "It just so happens-" He says, grinning, "that I will be in the city on that day. And everyday. Turns out, Seattle's got a pretty great music scene. Cute songwriters too, I hear."

Ally gapes at him.

Austin chuckles at her confusion. "So all that's really left is this."

He gets down on one knee. "Ally Dawson." He begins seriously, with laughing eyes. "Ally Evangeline Dawson."

Ally lets out a teary laugh. "Not my middle name, Austin."

Austin ignores her and continues. "Will you..." He pauses dramatically. "go." She hits him when he pauses again. "Ow! Ally! Fine. Will you, Allyson Chrysanthemum Dawson, go on a date with me?"

Ally beams at him, eyes sparkling. "Of course, Austin Monica Moon. I'd be delighted."

He whoops and grabs her around the waist, spinning her in the air. As Austin sets her down, Ally leans up into him. When her lips are a breath away from his, she stops. "Still not my middle name, Austin." she whispers.

He nuzzles her nose with his. "Well, I've got a lifetime to figure it out."

* * *

Ooooh boy. this was a doozy. The plots that pull you out of hiatus. Seriously.


End file.
